Chapter 37 Chapter 37
Liana Pov
The minute the car pulled into the school parking area, I started unbuckling the belt. My heart pounded, my entire body tense with anxiety. I didn't let the driver look for an actual parking space. I opened the door roughly and sped down the path, heels clicking madly on the sidewalk. Mum caught up quickly behind, anxiety carved heavily on her face. The receptionist barely had time to utter a word before I sped past and stood in front of the principal's door.
And there she was. Cam was seated on the bench outside the door, her backpack untidy at her feet. Her eyes were glassy, lips quivering slightly, and her hands clasping a crumpled tissue. My baby. My sweet, clever girl was lost and hurt.
"Cam," I breathed, going down on my knees before her. Her head popped up. The moment she saw me, something in her eyes and she flung herself into my arms.
"Mummy, I'm sorry! I didn't want to, I just… I was so angry!" she wailed.
I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her in the kind of hug that only a mother can provide. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here now."
Mom was hovering by the door, silent but listening. I tapped Cam on the crown of her head and looked over her shoulder at the door to the principal's office.
It was enough. When we were finally led in, Mrs. Detweiler her Principal sat behind her desk, fingers together and face fixed in professional worry. To her right was a school counselor and the mother of the other kid. A tightly ponytailed woman with harder eyes. Her son, a smug-looking kid about Cam's age.
"Miss Davids, thank you for coming on such short notice," Mrs. Detweiler began.
I nodded respectfully, though I was already bracing myself.
"We wanted to discuss what happened today. Camilla had a physical altercation with another student…"
"According to what I heard, she defended herself," I interrupted. My voice wasn't hostile, but it was firm. The other woman rolled her eyes. I turned my attention to her.
"Wanna comment, or are you just here to silently judge?"
She blinked, having been surprised.
"Mrs. Allen," Mrs. Detweiler warned, but shrugged and reclined.
"All I'm saying is, perhaps if some parents were less loose with their own lives, their children wouldn't be so easily provoked."
Oh, hell no!
"Excuse me?" I took a step forward. "My daughter is not at fault for the vile rumors your son saw fit to spread to children at school. Do you know what he said to her? That her mom 'sleeps around for headlines.'"
Even Mrs. Detweiler looked visibly taken aback by that.
"She stood up for herself because she was bullied. Verbally assaulted. And instead of standing up for her, you're calling me in here like she's the problem."
The counselor tried to interrupt with something about mediation and resolution, but I wasn't done.
"This is a private school. I pay good money to have my daughter safeguarded here. Not just physically, but emotionally too. Where was the supervision? Why wasn't anyone stepping in before all this happened?"
The room got quiet. Mrs. Allen folded her arms.
"Your daughter assaulted my son"
"Having been provoked," I snapped. "If you wish to educate your son in cruelty, that is your business. But do not stand there and pretend like he's the victim."
Cam sat beside me, mutely, her shoulders hunched in. I could feel her shame, her fear. And I hated that she was here, absorbing this. She had enough burdens to carry already.
"We're going to have an official review," the principal said, trying to regain control. "Meanwhile, Camilla will be heading home for today. This will not be deemed a suspension, but a cooling off period."
"Fine," I said, already standing up. "But if I hear one more whisper about her or myself emanating from this school, you'll no longer be seeing me in your office. You'll be seeing me in court."
Mrs. Allen snorted once more, but I ignored her. I stood and took Cam in my hands.
"Let's go, baby."
………
In the car, everyone was quiet for most part of the road. Mum sat in front with the driver, letting us have our privacy. Cam was beside me, fiddling with her sleeves.
"I'm sorry, mummy," she whispered eventually.
I reached over and gently pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "Don't be. You did what you thought you needed to do. And I'm proud of you for taking care of yourself. You're brave."
She looked at me with huge, tear-filled eyes. "But they all hate us now. At school. On the television. Everywhere."
I gulped hard, remembering that soreness in my throat again. "Let them talk. We know the truth. And that's all that matters."
We sat the rest of the way in silence, her head finally on my shoulder. At home, I coaxed Cam into her room with snacks, her favorite movie, and promises of extra cuddles later. Mum disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt cooking something to help soothe our nerves.
But I needed a second. I went into the hall and called Stanley's number.
"Liana," his voice was smooth, friendly. “Excited?”
"Hey," I whispered. "I'm so sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel dinner tonight. Something happened with Cam at school. It's just been a lot. She needs me.”
There was quiet, then he spoke without a hint of disappointment. "Of course. Don't apologize. Take care of her. And yourself too."
"Thanks for understanding."
"Always."
I said goodbye and hung up, leaning against the wall and exhaling. Evening had already begun to set in, the sky darkening to hues of burnt orange and deep purple when the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. The initial instinct was to ignore it but something compelled me to open it.
I stood stunned by the sight in front of me. Stanley stood broadly smiling with two trays covered and a small bouquet of tulips in hand.
My heartbeat skipped a beat. "What are you doing here?" I asked, really surprised.
He smiled faintly. "Since you weren't able to make it to dinner… I brought dinner to you."
I was stuck there, stunned for a moment.
"You didn't have to…" I managed to say.
"I know," he said. "But, I wanted to. May I come in? Just to leave this off, if nothing else."
I stepped aside to let him in. Mum peered from the kitchen, arched a questioning brow, then disappeared again, leaving me alone.
We walked to the dinner table and he set everything down. Pasta, garlic bread, and some sweet-smelling whatever for dessert.
"You're too good to be true," I growled, sliding into a chair.
He sat with me, not saying anything initially. Just letting the silence hang between us.
Then he looked over. "I read the tabloids. Their reactions are trash."